


An Adventure of Epic Proportions

by akgerhardt



Series: In Which Dirk Discovers He Likes Vore [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Accidental Shrinking, Body Worship, Fluff and NSFW, Giant/Tiny, I didn’t want to write fanfics but my hand has a mind of its own and I am sorry, M/M, Macro/Micro, Oral/Mouthplay, Post-Sburb- Earth C, Soft/Safe/Nonfatal/Willing Vore, Sometimes when two people love each other very much the one gets inside the other, That's how sex works
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-08-27
Packaged: 2020-09-27 16:36:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20410906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akgerhardt/pseuds/akgerhardt
Summary: You don't think you'll be drinking again.





	1. Chapter 1

Your name is Jake, and holy Chipotle guacamole, do you have regrets. This whole Earth C thing, while allowing you all to live like normal college kids, has also enabled you to make terrible decisions. It’s a learning curve, you tell yourself. Your current lesson, it seems, is in alcohol.

You don’t know who decided it was a good idea to let you get drunk off your ass and make a damn fool of yourself, but it was probably you. Now, you’re paying the price. Such a small body should not be able to experience such a strong hangover, you think, as you embark on a perilous flight back to your dorm after waking up in a shrub outside.

As expected, Dirk is awake, tinkering in his makeshift workshop. Too busy and mature for parties, or so he says. You can’t help but smile at the way the morning light illuminates his features, making him look almost relaxed. You’re glad you told him not to wait up for you, but he probably did, anyway.

You swoop closer, landing on his sock and gently tugging it.

* * *

Your name is Dirk, and life has been pretty good to you as of late. It’s nice to not have to fight for the lives of your loved ones (or yourself), to not even have to worry about tragic accidents thanks to the god tiers. You’re trying to focus on the real issues, now- the ones inherent to you. It sucked soggy asswipes at first, but you loosened the reigns just enough to make room for improvement, and you let your friends support you for the first time. Hell, you and Jake even went to couple’s counseling, and while it was a hilarious ordeal, the two of you were able to understand each other better by the end of it and developed skills to prevent things from going to shit as easily as they used to. You’re both still incredibly fucked up, and always will be, but that’s something you’re learning to live with, both literally and metaphorically. It’s unlikely that either of you will ever be traditional relationship material, but you’re his person, and he’s yours, and you’re more than content with that.

College. College is fun, except for the social aspects. Jake’s come out of his shell, but he’ll always need his space, and that’s ok. You’re great at being a smartass, but there are some situations you’d rather avoid, like parties, and that’s also ok.

You commiserate over awkward conversations, embarrassing moments, miscommunication, and all of the other bullshit that accompanies human interaction. It’s morbidly convenient to be with the only other person in the multiverse who gets you on this level.

You’re wiring another prototype when you feel a tug on your ankle. If your hands had been empty, you probably would’ve spun right out of the chair, because you’re not afraid of housepests; they’re just repulsive and unclean.

You place the device and tool down, then anxiously glance at your foot. What you see makes you question your sanity and count the hours of sleep you’ve gotten in the past several days.

You do a double-take, and, yep, that’s him. What the fuck.

He can’t be taller than two inches. He’s waving to you excitedly, and you have to squint to make out his features. You’re seriously tripping.

You’ve never experienced visual or auditory hallucinations, so the combination of both lends a bit more credibility to the moment. His voice sounds distant, like someone shouting from the other end of the building. Begrudgingly, you lean down to hear him better, deciding to ride this out and hoping you’re not actually interacting with a cockroach or some shit.

“… to believe this, I know, but I feel like the devil's toothpick at the present, so if you don’t mind-”

“Jake.”

“I’ve got to remember exactly what happened… I think it involved the mention of internet fetish jokes, and gosh, what a classless buffoon I was! I only hope I didn’t upset her too much… Ideally, she’ll have forgotten more than me.”

“Jake.”

“Criminy, you’re giving me a choice case of vertigo. It- It was worse when you were upright, though, heheh… You know that dizzy feeling you get looking up at a skyscraper? Imagine a whole bunch of them, moving! Quite terrifying, to be frank. Now I know what it’s like to be in one of those giant monster movies, or battling mechas… Hoo, boy. Oh, you’ve already got some! Thank you, chum. I’ll just zippity zoop on over if you’ve already had your fill- If I’m interrupting anything, just say the word and I’ll be clean out of your hair!

… Ah, I think concussions make migraines worse in the long term…”

He flies up next to you, hovering in front of your face for a moment to place a kiss on the tip of your nose, then pulls back with a tired grin. He lands on the desk, stripping down to his boxers before hopping into your coffee mug, balancing against your slanted spoon, and sinking lower with a blissful sigh, not unlike someone in a hot tub. You reclaim your seat.

“This, this is wonderful… Almost makes up for the rest.”

“Jake.”

“Mm?”

“Could you please enlighten me on whatever the fuck happened.”

“… You didn’t hear me, did you? Heheh, sorry, it figures. I, ah. Ok. I got washed up and ticked off dear Jade last night. All I can recall is laughing at some stupid joke I made and then getting zapped. She was rather inebriated as well, and she’s got a reputation for taking no shit in that state…

You know, plants make lovely resting places. It’s baffling to imagine how many tiny details one overlooks on the daily, Dirk. I feel like I’m living in a whole other world! Bugs, flowers, leaves, everything! Birds are just feathery dinosaurs with an appetite for revenge. I had to square up with useless pistols against a cat and then flee at top speed just to get caught in a spiderweb- thankfully, it was abandoned. But, Dirk, this is incredible! My phone still works, so I took loads of pictures... Could you perchance find a way to charge it?”

You heave a bemused sigh, lifting the mug to your lips to blow bubbles idly. He giggle-snorts, and you can’t help but quirk a smile.

* * *

Your name is Jade, you lost your phone, and you don’t intend to wake up anytime soon.


	2. Chapter 2

Your name is Jake, and you wouldn’t exactly consider this a conundrum. In fact, it’s rather grand. 

At this size, you’ll never have to pay for necessities. Hell, Dirk could even smuggle you into movie theaters for free. Now, that. That would be sweet.

Of course, in the long term, your miniscule problems would become rather large and require creative solutions, but you don’t anticipate it lasting long enough for them to even be relevant. You console yourself in this way as you stand in the sink to shower, drain plugged and faucet just barely trickling. The force is still enough to feel like you’re standing under a waterfall. Hand-soap is a viscous slime monster, and once you got out of _that_ mess, Dirk kindly provided you with a bar of soap, wrapped in a sock to make it less slippery. He looks like he’s getting a kick out of the whole thing, to be honest. Once you’re clean, he lets you climb onto his hand and drops an unused polishing cloth atop you. It’s incredibly soft, and you swaddle yourself in it like a cocoon. He scoops it up carefully once you’re in and tucks it into the pocket of his shirt, which he donned specifically for that purpose.

“Hey. Hey, Dirk. How’s the weather up there?” 

“You sure you’re sober? Or did you fly into someone’s bong on the way here?”

“Oh, come now! A _little_ humor never hurt anyone.”

“Did last night, apparently.”

You huff, burrowing further into your nest. His warmth radiates, and you can feel his heartbeat against you, chest rising and falling with every breath he takes.

“... Thank you for helping me.”

“Don’t mention it... I just. You’re so vulnerable now. You’re the size of a goddamn bug, but without any of their defenses. I’m gonna be honest- I’m fucking terrified of something happening to you.” 

You fall silent, again feeling like an idiot. Of course he’d be worried, and you’ve been all but on top of the world. 

“I’m sorry... If it helps, you can leave me under a cup like a spider until Jade comes.”

“Nah, I like this.”

You chortle, wiggling around as you finish getting dressed. 

He eases himself into bed, then pets your bundle lightly before resting his hand atop it, occasionally stroking with his thumb. You're enveloped by the rhythmic, soothing sensations, beyond comfortable but gradually becoming restless due to excess energy. After a good while, you peek out at your surroundings, which are primarily Dirk. He's still awake (unsurprisingly), just dicking around on his phone with his free hand.

“Did she reply yet?”

“Nope. Guess we’re stuck for the time being.”

“Quite unfortunate, it seems.”

“Yep.”

...

“Certainly, we should stay put and do absolutely nothing until the situation is resolved.”

“Mm.”

“It goes unsaid that I shouldn’t explore and use you as an enormous jungle gym.”

“Jake, go to sleep.”

“See, that’s the thing. I already slept and had coffee, and, while this is downright heavenly, the rest of you looks so inviting...”

He sighs. 

“Please? I promise I’ll be careful!”

“Ok, I’m gonna have to stop you there. How many times have you said that and proceeded to get in deep shit? Not ankle-deep, not even waist-deep; no, over your head in shit like some shitty quicksand. Shitsand. Except you’re not Indiana Jones, and whips can’t realistically do anything except inflict pain. Not that I'd know from experience, but-”

“I won’t go anywhere. I’ll limit my excursion to the boundaries of this bed- Scout’s Honor. You don’t move around in your sleep, and I won’t go hopping into orifices, because that’s plain gross.”

“... You know what? Fuck it. Knock yourself out; at least you can fly.”

You pop out almost immediately, swooping over to his face. He stiffens, staying perfectly still as you hug his cheek.

“So much more to love~”

“My kink vibes are tingling.”

You place a kiss on his lower lip and pet it, appreciating how plush and smooth it is. It twitches slightly in response, and he heats up. You smirk. 

“Wowza! I daresay it’s detecting your kink. I caught you staring numerous times when you thought I wasn’t looking.”

“Oh, yeah, I definitely wasn't making sure you weren’t in danger. I’m just a pervert with ulterior motives. Yep, totally getting off to this.”

Every time he speaks, you’re jostled, and his voice thrums around and through you. You grip nearly-invisible hairs to stay in place.

“I’m very much in danger. It would be tragic if you put that tongue to good use.”

“That’s some big talk for a guy asking to be vored.”

“Hey!”

He snickers, puffing a gust of wind at you and knocking you off. You slide down his jaw and land on the side of his neck, clambering to get a better hold as his jugular vein bounces you up and down. The vibrations of his vocal chords are far stronger here, and you can even hear the air rushing below you.

“Having fun yet?”

“Ab-so-lutely!”

“... Don’t move too much in the sensitive spots.”

“Where?”

“You know where.”

For a moment, you envision a Dirk map with delineated turn-on areas. While you respect his boundaries, you feel almost obligated to take advantage of his ticklishness, and set to doing just that. You dart under his shirt deviously, and all he can do is laugh and clutch the sheets with white knuckles.

“Fuck you, man...”

His abdominal muscles tense and twist under you, sending you all over the place. When you finally get your footing, it’s in the tuft of soft fluff below his chest. You note the pleasant combination of smells from his fabric softener, body wash, and deodorant.

“... Do you use conditioner on this or something?”

“Yeah, totally. Why are you even in there?”

“I could have chosen the way of the wang.”

“Ok, get out,” he chuckles.

You comply, settling for the hair atop his head instead. There’s residual stickiness from the daily styling it endures, making it difficult to cross, so you eventually abandon your quest. You sit atop the bridge of his nose, looking out over his mountainous features to plan your next exploration. Traversing the slopes on foot and attempting to climb all the way to the peak that is his raised knee will be awesome, no doubt. Who needs a pricey backpacking trip when you have a giant bro?

“By jove, this is gay.

...

What time is it now?”

He maneuvers to retrieve his phone, and you read the screen before he even speaks.

“Quarter of nine.”

“No fucking way. You must be exhausted...”

“M’used to it.”

“Dirk, if you don’t sleep, I- I will do absolutely nothing, because I am powerless against your self-destructive tendencies. I will, however, put up a fuss.”

“I’ll sleep when this is over, ok?”

“... As you wish.”

* * *

Your name is Dirk, and you want to vore him just for appropriating your movie. There’s an eighty-eight percent chance you’d be into it, but you're not quite ready to admit that to either of you.

Thank fuck you have nonsentient glasses now. 


	3. Chapter 3

Your name is Jake, as it’s always been, and you’re a very squeamish man. You don’t fancy bodily anythings, but you’re having a hell of a fun time resting with him on the couch, snuggled underneath his shirt while he works on an essay and his stomach works on a third cup of coffee. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he has a pet kraken. It’s rumbling and rolling unhappily, protesting the lack of actual food. You tried convincing him to take a break, but once he’s in the zone, almost nothing can interrupt him. 

Except your physical self, maybe. You resurface, stroking his chin.

“Dirk.”

“Mm?”

“Take your antacid.”

“I will.”

“Now, please. I don’t want to imagine all the damage you’ve done to your organs over the years...”

He sighs softly, pulling his head back a bit to see you clearly. 

“Ok.”

You’re somewhat surprised that it worked, but thankful nonetheless. You follow him to the kitchen, where he retrieves the small bottle, checks the label, and proceeds to dump half its contents down his throat, accompanied by the remainder of the coffee in the pot.

“Dirk! Oh my god...”

“What?!

... Oh, shit, no. Dude, it’s not dangerous. This particular kind, worse case scenario is it neutralizes all of the acid in there and I can’t digest anything solid for, like, a day.”

...

You exchange an awkward glance, falling into silence. 

Returning to the couch, you resume your previous positions. As the minutes past, his stomach becomes no less active. In fact, he has hiccups now. He continues to type, with seemingly no intention to eat in the near future.

“What’s a good vore pick-up line?” you muse aloud. “Don’t make me go down there?”

His abs tense in anticipation of the next spasm, and you rub in an attempt to calm it. He jerks slightly and stifles a noise, as if the barely-palpable sensation was electrifying.

... Sensitive, right. You vacate his shirt once again, perching on the frame of his laptop to study him intently. He avoids your gaze.

To the layman, his expression would appear neutral and unchanged, but you've become well-versed in Dirkinese. You like to think so, at least, which is why you're confident that he's more flustered than you've ever witnessed before.

“... Dirk, am I correct to presume that you want me inside of you in more ways than one?”

...

“We were invited to a friend... thing at some fancy café. Well, we as in me. I responded for both of us, but given the circumstances...”

“Dirk Strider, I am ready and willing to indulge whatever fantasies you may have that involve swallowing me.

... I’m not useless, you know. I can quell the storm _brewing_ inside of you and give you a tummy full of good feelings. Wouldn’t you like that~? Don’t you want to keep me safe, in one place? Can't we just try it? Please?

...

All I ask is that you drink a bit of mouthwash- no offense intended.”

As if on queue, his stomach growls something ferocious and he cringes, closing his laptop in defeat. You were so overjoyed at his relentment that you didn't move out of the way in time to avoid the shock. Everything goes dark.

* * *

Your name is Dirk- Of course it is; why do you keep telling yourself that? 

Maybe this was all it took to push you past the brink. He's unmoving in your palm, and too small to even attempt CPR on, but you doubt it would accomplish anything. 

It was only a matter of time, you think morbidly, just waiting for his revival now. It doesn't come, and you have to set him down because your nerves are shot and you're teetering on a breakdown. That's why you practically jump when the doorbell buzzes, and you flashstep to answer it, not knowing what to expect but desperate for anything to distract you. You check the viewer, and... it's Jane. You don't think you could be more grateful for her presence than you are at this exact moment. You let her in, and her cheery expression fades when she sees your bleary, shadeless face.

"... Dirk? What happened?" 

You summarize Jake's story as you lead her shakily to his resting place, leaving out all of the lewd shit you two just did. You end it with "and he was on top of my laptop when it closed- the hinge is weak, so it was a pretty abrupt force, and he got knocked around. I- I fucked up, Jane. Is there anything you can do?"

She straightens from where she was scrutinizing his form, pushing her glasses up with a smile.

"Dirk, he’s still alive. I'm no doctor, so I don’t know what’s wrong, but it's nothing a little zap can't fix!"

She proceeds to deliver said zap in a hairwidth of cyan, and, several seconds later, he stirs, groaning. Past reservations, you lift her off the ground in a hug. She ‘hoo-hoo's quietly, patting you on the back. 

"Don’t beat yourself up, alright? It was a simple accident, and he should've been more careful in the first place!" 

She leans down once more to ruffle his hair with her pinky affectionately. You're almost as close as she is, and a wave of relief washes over you when he blinks groggily, looking up.

"Good morning, sunshine! I'm going to need you to tend to Dirk now, as you gave him quite the scare!"

The Jake Machine seems to buffering, but after a few moments, he speaks.

"Gracious, Janey, you cured my hangover."

She gives a bemused chuckle, shaking her head. 

"I suppose I can carry on with my original intent now. You may recall that Roxy was chaperoning last night, and, when you disappeared, she figured you went home with Jade, since she last saw you two together. Jade, however, isn't answering her phone, and neither were _you_-"

"It's approximately a millimeter tall and dead." 

"... I'll give you a pass for that. But yes, I figured I'd stop by to check in before I run some errands on the way to the café. Will... you still come? Jade should be there, so you can sort things out and then enjoy lunch with us!"

You both nod, and, thankfully, your stomach doesn't vocalize its eagerness.

After multiple expressions of gratitude from each of you, she departs, bidding you a safe journey. 

As soon as she closes the door, he's hugging your finger with all of his might. He tugs at your heartstrings, and you crook it ever so slightly in an attempt to reciprocate. 

"Let's just up and do this while we can, hm?"

You smirk, swallowing your excitement.


	4. Chapter 4

Your name is Jake, and you are beyond ready for this, or so you think. Dirk took every possible precaution to ensure your safety, from downing the rest of the bottle on top of handfuls of Tums and a seltzer tablet (Surely that can't be healthy, you object), and then swallowing one of the pill-sized, oblong, flat plastic beads he uses in leveling gauges. They're incredibly sturdy and buoyant, should you need something to rest on. You do, however, think it's all a bit much, but as long as he can stop worrying and enjoy it, right? 

You watch awkwardly as he gulps down mouthful after mouthful of air, wincing at the intrusions. When he's deemed that he's finally created a safe environment for you, he steps back, placing a hand on his stomach gingerly as he tries to keep everything down. It was a lot at once, after all. 

"Feeling alright?" 

"Yeah... I just need a sec." 

"Of course, but I don't imagine you'd be hungry after... that."

It gurgles and bubbles, incredibly loud from your perspective. He shuts his eyes, evening out his breathing.

"... I'm fucking starving for you."

Now, it's your turn to be flustered.

Without warning, he lurches, covering his mouth. He coughs, a lump of what is likely half-dissolved antacids lodging in his throat and rolling upwards. He swallows forcefully multiple times, pushing against said lump to help it all the way past his sternum. He takes another sip of water, catching his breath and leaning on the counter for a moment.

"Are you absolutely sure you're alright?! We don't have to do this!"

...

"I want to. I want this so fucking bad, ok?

... I want you inside of me. There, I said it. Bring on the kinkshaming."

You chortle, and he meets your eyes, managing a genuine smile. The tender moment is interrupted by a small burp in his closed mouth. He swallows once more, embarrassedly, then takes the mouthwash.

You strip down to your boxers yet again, overwhelmed with anticipation. This isn't going to be like one of those fucked up "fantastic voyage" cartoons- not even akin to a wet dream involving a certain dame's blue insides. No, this is Dirk. You’re going to be as close to him as physically possible. He's going to become your world. It’s quite literally the ultimate act of trust and intimacy. 

He glances at your very obvious boner, and all of your sentimental intent is lost, leaving you with only mild shame. He sits down, and you perch in his outstretched palm.

"Guess you have no room to judge, heh."

"Nope. I hope you know that I wouldn't, regardless. Lord knows I have peculiar fetishes."

He just smirks, snorting another gust of warm wind over you and booping the top of your head with his beak of a nose. You laugh, papping it. He brings you to eye-level, carefully petting you. You stare up at him with unadulterated adoration, placing your hand on his finger when he withdraws. 

"... I love you."

"Love you too, silly. Let's get this horse off to the races, shall we?"

You're now less than two inches away from those pretty lips. He pauses before parting them to rub the tip of his tongue against your whole body. You gasp, keening as he continues. He swirls it around, rolling you in his palm, and it's like a warm, wet massage. You can't believe how amazing it feels. 

Naturally, once you're satiated, he focuses his ministrations on your crotch.

"D- Dirk... Oh, fucking... Ah! God, please..." 

Suddenly, you're facing his teeth, but you just roll with it. Ever so carefully, he gets the hem of your boxers between two, then bites down and tugs. Your diminutive size, coupled with his strength, are no match for them, and you'd morn their desecration if it wasn't so goddamn hot.

He sucks you off, pulling your entire lower body between his soft lips. You whine at the overwhelming sensations, from the suction, to the plush, warm slickness, to the pleased hum reverberating through you, to the way his bumpy, textured tastebuds are engulfing your dick and stroking it. 

You last maybe two minutes, and he's generous enough to give you another round. You're absolutely losing it, and when you've finished, he lets you slip back onto his palm, gently lapping the rest up as he gets the last spasms out. You collapse, spent, and he checks you over to make sure you're ok. You assure him that you are very much so and inform him that he is the greatest being ever to bless any universe. 

With one final, sweet exchange, he presses a kiss to your whole body before placing you in his mouth. You steady yourself on his tongue as you adjust to the darkness, and then he's swishing you around, salivating copiously. You giggle at his eagerness.

“Mmmmnn... so tasty... an’ all mine~”

Once he's had his fun and thoroughly tired both you and his tongue out, he tilts his head back. You slide down, almost giddy like a kid on a waterslide.

His muscles encompass you, squeezing and massaging as they work you down. Everything is hot and pulsating, even softer than before. He moans quietly, which is rather loud from where you are. You feel him press two fingers against you, squishing you into the throbbing slickness. Your dick twitches, and, if there wasn’t a risk of him choking, you'd probably try to fuck his thrussy. Once his throat is clear, he speaks.

“Oh, god, I did it. I swallowed you... I- I can feel everything... S’ even better than I imagined...”

He's making all sorts of pleasured noises that make your whole body vibrate, and, as you go lower, you pass his heart and lungs, overwhelming you with sensory output. When you finally reach your destination, you lodge in the opening, impatient for gravity to finish your descent. He gasps at the sensation as you wiggle the rest of the way in, landing with a splash. His stomach announces your arrival with a long rumble and squelch, jostling you around the makeshift living space. He moans and whines again, pushing the walls snug against you with both hands like an all-encompassing hug and prodding at your form.

“Fuck, finally... You’re... so deep inside of me... C- Can you move? God, _yes_, just like that... Mmnn, you feel so _good _in there... You’re so- good, Jake, so good-”

It’s too dark to see, but you stumble your way up the nearest side and waste no time in giving him the best damn rubs you possibly can, reducing him to an erotic mess. You know he’s jerking it to your mere presence, and massaging can only amplify the experience, right? He seems to agree. 

He comes several times to your different strategies, the sounds of his internals almost as loud as his voice. God, what it does to you when he says your name...

Once he's satisfied and finished, you're raring to go one last time, so you try to be as subtle as possible while you thrust into one of the filamented grooves. He laughs slightly, muscles clenching around your dick, and that sends you over the edge. 

You lean on the curved wall as you regain composure, fucking exhausted. The foamy liquid below continues to slosh in wavelike motions, creating a calm ambience with his leveling breath and heartbeat. His steady pulse thrums against you, and the whole organ expands and contracts rhythmically, rising and falling slowly like gentle slopes as it rocks you. It's way softer and warmer than you'd anticipated, easy to sink into and surprisingly comfortable. You give it an appreciative pat, snuggling closer. He sighs contently, poking at you before beginning to rub the spot with his finger. You rub back until you fall asleep. 


	5. Chapter 5

Your name is Dirk- No shit. 

You just experienced the best orgasms of your twenty-two years, and woke up less than an hour later, feeling like you had a full night's sleep, along with a full meal. Deep inside of you, he's safe from everyone and everything, even your bullshit. You’re still riding his high, and every time he moves, it thrills you in an inexplicable way that nothing else can. 

You use a low-voltage, exposed wire tip to recharge his (waterproof) phone instantly upon contact, carefully pick it up between your tweezers, place it on your tongue, and wash it down for him casually. He's still asleep, but you don’t think you could have a two-sided conversation without it, should the need arise. You only hope he'll see it, because if he leaves it behind and someone calls it... Heh. That would be interesting.

With another satisfied rub and sigh, you get ready for the day and head out. You’re still hungry, considering you haven't actually eaten any food, and you promised you'd be there, anyway. You'll just tell them you left him back at the house for safety. 

When you arrive, you apologize for being late, but they don’t seem to mind. You treat yourself to a large bowl of sherbert topped with whipped cream and a cherry, ravenous by this point. 

You savor each mouthful, trying to eat slowly so it can melt and just kinda... flow in, hoping it won’t wake him that way. You’re sucking on the cherry thoughtfully when Roxy speaks. 

"... So, how was it~?"

"Orange is the best, hands down."

"I meant Jake," she snickers.

You nearly choke, swallowing the cherry whole and wincing. You cough, and Jane insists you take a sip of the ice water you'd refrained from drinking until now in order to clear your throat. You feel him stir, but you have a more pressing matter to attend to- your dignity.

"Uh. He's good, but he seemed pretty tired from everything, so I let him sleep." 

She smirks and waggles her brows at Jane, who sighs, closing her eyes for a moment and rubbing the bridge of her nose.

"Roxy, that doesn't prove anything. Leave them be."

"... I'm afraid to ask."

"Wouldja do me a favor? Stand up for a sec."

"Please don’t."

You've already obliged the first request, a nervous feeling building in the pit of your stomach. He tries to calm you down with soothing rubs, but it's making you more flustered than anything, which is ultimately not helping.

She pulls out a handheld device and lines it up with your abdomen, setting off a scan-like light before you can even ask what in the ever-loving fuck is going on, or why she has that thing in the first place.

She looks at the screen with a triumphant grin, showing it to Jane, who silently opens her purse. 

"Six buckaroos and nine cents; cough it up."

"Might as well just pay the tip."

"That’s the spirit!"

By this point, you already know that you're screwed, so you take a hesitant glance at the image. 

It is, of course, the inside of your stomach. Thankfully, his lower half is censored by the sherbert pool.

"... Dirk? You’re not looking so good."

Roxy paps your stomach teasingly.

"Was is... something you ate?"

...

"Well, this has gone completely fucking pear-shaped. There’s no other way out of it; you're going to have to-"

"Oh, Dirky! I'm sorry; I didn't think you'd get _that_ embarrassed... Jus’ sit down, slow breaths... There you go. See? Everything’s fine! We're sworn to secrecy, k?"

You nod, still jittery and lightheaded. She strokes your forearm comfortingly, and you gradually relax again. You finish the rest of your bowl in silence.

"This is a silly question, but he is alright in there, yes?" 

“Yes.”

"Looks pretty nice, tbh. All pastel and sudsy like a bathbomb... What'dja do, give it a makeover?"

You bury your face in your hands, elbows resting on the table. 

"For reals, I wouldn't mind partyin' in there. I'll wear a fruit rollup or somethin' for your vorin' pleasure! Janes, you should cover yourself in icing and sprinkles like a pinup gal." 

"Look, I am in no frame of mind to consider a vorgy right now."

"I know, I know. For fuschvore reference... Heck, I could prolly void myself outta there and leave all the gunk behind so it won't be too gross." 

"... I don't think the game intended for our powers to be used this way."

Just then, all of your phones ping. He chose a great time to message the group chat. 

[Howdy ladies! How goes things?

Im most definitely texting you from my bed and not my significant other.

Not that id have any specific reason to mention that! Just thought id give you a heads up since he is with you and i am not eheh. I have no idea what sorts of conversations might arise due to our current circumstances so i wanted to put it out there to avoid any misunderstandings. No need to draw your own conclusions because you heard it straight from the horses mouth! Dirk is not a fetishist and thats all that really needs to be said about the matter!

... Is jade there perchance?]

You facepalm.

"They know, Jake. And no; she's not here."

"We can go to her dorm afterwards an' get this sorted out... That is, if you want to," she smirks. 

"Of course I do... But I'd prefer to-"

You jump as Jade zaps into the doorway with Davepeta, spotting your table and waving excitedly.

"Hey, guys!!! Sorry, I conked out for _sixteen_ hours. Then we had to find my phone and disinfect it because Terezi took it for her hoard... bleck. I'll be right there!" she shouts, skipping over to the counter to place her order.

... Sprites don’t eat, do they? You assume they came just for the hell of it, since they're heading towards your group now. They nod in greeting like a typical Strider, and you nod back, but their cutesy smile kinda changes the vibe. It's been a while, and, as they get closer, you notice that they’re sporting a goatee. Nice. 

You're trying to act casual, but you realize that she'll detect him with her supersenses, and you don’t think you can physically handle further humiliation. You feel like a raccoon stuck in a trashcan.

"You're going to have to decapitate me," you mutter, to no one in particular. It’s your go-to coping mechanism. 

"Dirk, I think you need to use the restroom. It’s single-person, and rather nice, as far as restrooms go."

You nod bleakly, stumbling off after thanking her. 

Once you get in and lock the door, you check your phone.

[I just need a minute ok? My phone light isnt that great and i dont know the first thing about physiology but its obvious that youve done a real number on the tissue in here and i think youve even got the makings of ulcers...]

"Fan-fucking-tastic," you sigh.

[No this is your lucky day! I was going to use my abilities earlier but thought better of it since it might've gotten a bit... bright and intense heh. So just sit tight and experience the healing power of hope!]

"Oh my god."

You’re bracing yourself for some DBZ spirit bomb, but all you can do is trust that he knows what he’s doing. After a moment, there’s a peculiar feeling in your stomach, which amplifies until you're glowing brighter than a lightbulb. It's like pure ecstasy, sending a rush of dopamine and endorphins through your head. You feel giddy and higher than a motherfucker, which is... new. Nothing else has ever had a positive effect on you.

Something of that same energy stirs deep within you, bumping into your walls and swirling around haphazardly like a fish trying to escape its bowl. You hiccup, and it breaks free, traveling up your throat like a slow-moving laser and then shooting past your teeth. You involuntarily release one of his angels, whose featureless face looks just as surprised as you. 

It would be bad if it got loose in the café, so you quickly catch it and suck it back down. It wiggles all the way, and you can't help but laugh at the sensation. 

Eventually, the hopesplosion turns back in on itself, and the science magic returns to... wherever it came from, bringing you back to reality. You feel tiny hands nudging the entrance to your stomach, trying to open it wide enough for him to get out. You hiccup again reflexively, and he flies upwards, struggling against the opposite force of your throat muscles. After a couple minutes, he pops into your mouth, collapsing on your tongue. You let him slide into your waiting hand along with the phone he's gripping tightly, gently set him down next to the sink, then upchuck the antacid liquid and bead. The cherry stays down, so at least it wasn't a total waste. Heaving one last time, you glance over at him.

"... You good?"

"Most certainly," he laughs, still catching his breath. "You're the one who just turned his insides out..."

You rinse your mouth out along with the bead, repocketing it because they're not cheap. Wiping your lips on your sleeve, you recompose yourself and proceed to scrutinize his form. 

"You sure? Anything hurt? Light-headed? Dizzy? Jane's right outside."

"I'm fine, honest! Just tired, heh... and in dire need of a shower, so if you don’t mind-"

"Oh, yeah, obviously."

He lathers himself feebly with the dollop of foaming soap you dispensed, and then you carefully bring him under the faucet again.

"Thank you, Dirk... Boy, was that wild."

"Thanks for the help and nuttage... I feel like a god," you sigh happily.

"Good, because you are!"

"... Heh. Ditto." 

You affirm that the hand dryer is heatless before wrapping him securely in the bottom of your shirt and starting it, holding him as far away from the machine as possible while staying within range. After several seconds, he’s completely dry, sporting mad scientist hair. You hand him his clothes and glasses, and then you go back together. Jade apologizes as soon as he flies over, immediately reverting him. He falls onto the table, and you all laugh. She poofs away the mess before hugging him, and after more exchanges of heartfelt apologies, they take their seats, and you enjoy your time together. Honestly, you’re grateful just to be able to hold his hand again. You order actual food, and, once you're ready to dig in, the pressure of all of the air stored in your abdomen is finally relieved when it escapes in a long burp. You manage to cover it with your elbow, and the girls crack up, while Jake gives you a sympathetic smile.

"Shit, sorry. That was downright disgusting."

"Are you sure you're hungry?" Davepeta jokes.

"This is the first _real_ food he's had all day."

"He had quite the case of indigestion, but he’s ok now, hoo hoo!"

"Yeah, he got it out of his system, and he's all better. Right, Dirk?"

"... You three are the worst."

Jade quirks an eyebrow, but then her expression fades to a resigned “I don’t want to know.” She proceeds with the customary sharing, enlarging your waffles while Roxy replicates her fruit salad. 

Once the festivities are over and you'reback home, there's a thick, undeniably sexual tension hanging between you two until he breaks it. You might as well be trying to devour him a second time with the way your body aches for him and your mouth attacks every inch of exposed skin, but he's equally passionate, stroking and kissing you all over. He tells you just how lovely you are (inside and out), how skilled you are with your tongue, how much he enjoyed the ordeal, that he wants more than anything to do it again... The rush of emotions is overwhelming as he praises you with each thrust, and you come in minutes, a mess of incoherent bliss. 

As you bask in the afterglow, full of good food and nut and receiving more heavenly rubs, you realize just how boned you are. 

You, Dirk Strider, are living your best life, and it's better than you ever fucking dreamed. Not even your batshit subconscious can ruin this for you. You don't know why the multiverse decided to be so generous, but you sure as hell can't complain.

* * *

Your name is Jake, obviously, and you’re already contriving a plan to get in that situation again- something that won't involve hurt feelings or enlighting your grandmother/daughter on your less innocent intentions. Maybe... Of course! 

With their combined void and spacey powers and vast scientific knowledge, Roxy and Jade successfully create a resizing contraption, and you become the latter's occasional field researcher and scout, recording your findings in assigned locations. Using magnifying glasses and the narrowest tools imaginable, Dirk fashions you tiny gizmos and gadgets, a thoroughly-tested, (stomach-friendly) multipurpose survival suit and oxygen helmet that can be folded to fit in your pocket, and an emergency button to contact Jade in situations that you require poofing from, such as spiderwebs and bats. Of course, he could have made them normal-sized so that they'd shrink with you for efficiency and accuracy, but he was stubbornly determined and so proud when they were finished. (It was pretty goshdarn cute to watch, and you felt just a bit like Ant-Man.) Unfortunately, they're fragile and easy to lose track of, so Roxy was kind enough to make a bunch of copies before he could knock himself out. She even joins you on occasion, which is always gay. 

However, sometimes Jade needs you to be much smaller than usual, defeating the purpose of single-size supplies... At some point, you’re going to have to break his poor heart by asking him to make a set of regular ones, but the whole shebang is a work-in-progress, anyway, and he’s having a great fucking time of it, as are you. You get to boldly go where no man has gone before, take the coolest pics imaginable, climb flowers, pet bees and moths, ride millipedes... A dream job, really! You enjoy it just as much as the rest of your fun-sized adventures. 

When it comes to the... lewd matters, he no longer has to suffer for pleasure. Once the oral stuff is over, you suit up, going down easily in the rather form-fitting, slick material. You think he chose it on purpose. He even, ah, added an partable dick slot, protected by thin silicone. He always waits until he’s empty and likes to spice things up by experimenting with edible concoctions, toys, luminescents, and the likes, many of which allow you to skip the protective gear altogether.

Roxy cloned her device (which was apparently made to diagnose appliance malfunctions via cross-sectional analysis to avoid the need for disassembly) and gifted it to him, and he acquired a stethoscope-like one as well. The former apparatus can illuminate insides to view them near-perfectly, take still images, and project live feed atop the external surface of the subject. Eventually, she managed to convince him to let her in. His protective nature and desire to be intimate with her won out, despite his barriers, orientation, and exclusive relationship. They did it alone first, and you started joining them off and on a couple times later; it’s not a threesome, and not explicitly sexual, at least when you’re together... You’re not exactly sure how to explain it, even to yourself. Needless to say, Jane is off-put by the idea, but... maybe someday. 


	6. Chapter 6

May never get aroun**d** to fixing o**r** finishing this, but here's **a** horse blo**w**ing bubbles.

I ha**v**e s**o **much to lea**r**n about art in g**e**neral, heheh. I do plan to add more doodles to this and other completed fics, though. **Please** stay tuned!


	7. Chapter 7

_A Selfie of Epic Proportions _


End file.
